We did the only thing sane people would do after reading the name of pure evil on something they found in the cities of those who’d been dead for a thousand years. We took the copper egg back to the Great Library at Naukratis for the masters to study. What else does one do with a relic which holds that Hellish name other than take it to the most learned men in the world?

Two weeks later, they called a meeting of the High Council to speak about what we were to do with the copper egg. Elora and I, as the ones who found it, were invited to attend.

All thirteen High Council members met that day, the wisest of all masters in one place, to decide the fate of the copper egg. The subject of this meeting rested on a pillow in the center of the room, in blissful ignorance of its destiny.

The first among the councilmen to speak was Lavan, a man who’d been a master at the library since before I was born. Though his face did not show a hint of age beyond forty, his hair was white as a bride’s garter.

“We have deciphered the letters upon this shell,” he said, adjusting round spectacles around half-lidded eyes. “According to the words here, the egg contains Zahac, the Accuser of Kings, who took shelter here after his conquest one-thousand years ago.”

My defeated sigh was the only voice heard in that amphitheater. All on the High Council had kept mind of their manners, as had fair Elora.

Lavan shot a furious glare at me, but continued. “A venom more dangerous than any serpent brews within him, and when he breaks free he will pass judgment upon us all. At least, that’s what it says.” Lavan rose from his seat and walked up to the copper egg in the center of the room. He held his hand aloft, turned his palm away from the egg, and tapped it with the red stone upon his middle-finger ring.

Ancient runes shone forth from the center of the ring’s stone, but the symbols on the egg did not glow. Even so, I heard a high-pitched ringing in my ears the moment after the stone connected.

“Unremarkable,” said Lavan. He shrugged and held up his hands. “We have kept this copper egg in the light of the morning star day after day, evening after evening, but it hasn’t retained an ounce of that energy.”

The ringing sound grew louder, and I stuck my fingers in both ears to drown it out. I felt like needles had pierced through my temples, into my brain. Yet, when I looked around at the others there, no one on the High Council showed any sign of discomfort.

Do none of them hear it?

I turned to observe Elora. Though her white eyes remained calm as ever, I saw the slightest downward tug on the corner of her lip, followed by a shake of her head.

“My hypothesis:” Lavan continued, thrusting his index finger into the air. “Since our tests have concluded that this egg has no magic, it is a bauble. A decoration. Possibly an object of religious significance, but not magic. Our masters have spoken Ancient words to it, read the inscription aloud, and tested it with other relics. It has not reacted to a single thing, and does not glow in the dark even after constant contact with its patron light. Clearly it has no purpose other than to be beautiful. You may discuss.”

The other members of the High Council turned to their most trusted friends in murmur. Some passed notes. Others whispered in ears.

One of them stood, an elf who was almost as respected as Lavan. Kedar.

His beard had long since turned gray, despite a brow devoid of wrinkles and a full head of frizzy, orange hair. His face was framed by pointed ears, from which hung silver earrings. He adjusted the single lens over his right eye and raised his hand with fingers held tight, side by side like a picket fence. “May I speak?”

Lavan gave an affirming gesture with his right hand. “Councilman Kedar has something to say.”

“If the copper egg is simply decorative,” the elf began, running his fingers through the thick curls of his beard, “I would suggest that we display it in the museum wing of the Great Library. Something so beautiful will surely draw visitors from far and wide, and they will pay patronage to see it.” He rubbed his fingers and thumb together to stir up greed in his colleagues. Even I imagined holding gold or even platinum coins when I saw the gesture. “That is my proposal.”

Lavan nodded. “I second this proposal. Does anyone have an alternative?”

I wasn’t at all sure of the rules, but in that moment I would’ve felt a fool if I did not speak up. “Pardon me, masters...” I raised my right hand as I saw Kedar do before. “Can I speak?”

The Councilmen all looked to Lavan. It seemed that, as the man who organized the meeting, he was the only one who could grant me such a privilege. Lavan gave an affirming gesture to me. “You may speak. We do not typically allow outsiders to weigh in on Council matters, but in this case it seems appropriate.” He pursed his lips and squinted. “Forgive me... what was your name again?”

“Ahv,” I told him.

“Ahv,” he repeated with a nod. “Ahv has something he would like to say,” he called out to the rest of the High Council.

I looked up at all the wise faces staring back at me. Their eyes told of the many years of experience they held and the vast knowledge they’d gleaned from the scrolls in their library.

I cleared my throat, focused just above their heads rather than at their eyes, and spoke, “I get a terrible feeling from this egg. I’m not a superstitious man, mind you. I may not be as well-studied as any of you, but I know that everything from the Ancients follows specific rules, even… especially their magic. But while you always tell folk like me that we can… what’s the word.. ‘quantify‘ those rules, I also know that you can’t really understand them.” I pointed to Lavan’s ring. “If you could understand them, you could make your own lac stones and replicate the relics. You wouldn’t need delvers like me.”

Some gave me only raised eyebrows or looks as if they felt embarrassed for me. Kedar seemed to be the only one considering that I might have a point as he twisted the end of his gray beard between his thumb and forefinger.

I pointed to the egg. “What if this egg really does contain Zahac? What if he hatches and is set loose on the world?” I shook my head. “Masters, please, I read the book you released last year. You still don’t know why the Ancients are gone, but we read constantly about their ‘End Times Myths.’ Can we really afford to dismiss it as a fairy tale? The gamble seems high if the stories are real.”

The High Council waited in silence for several moments after I finished, their wise eyes fixed upon me. It took me longer than I feel proud of to realize they were waiting for me to say more. Worse yet when I realized the reason why they were waiting.

“Umm… that is my proposal,” I said, to indicate that I was done speaking.

They reclined back in their chairs and resumed their mixed expressions of pity and disgust.

All except Kedar, who still leaned forward with his beard twisted between two fingers.

Elora turned to me and gave me a sympathetic half-smile, silently applauding me for trying.

Lavan called our over the egg in the center of the room, “He’s made an interesting proposal, but he does not have a vote on this council. Does anyone else have something they wish to say about this?”

Kedar raised his hand and stood. “May I respond to Ahv’s proposal?”

Lavan gave him the affirming gesture. “Kedar wishes to respond.”

“May we make it an open dialogue?” Kedar asked.

“You may,” said Lavan.

Kedar pointed to me. “You think the egg may actually contain the Ancients’ Prince of Chaos and Destruction? The Great Serpent? The Judge of All? As unlikely as that seems, given that we can detect nothing special about it, let’s assume you’re right. What, then, would you suggest we do? Shall we try to smash it to pieces? How do we know that doing so will not... unleash Zahac’s wrath upon us? Respond.”

“I… I guess smashing the egg would be dangerous.” I raised my fingers to my mouth and chewed on the back of my index knuckle. “We can’t chop it up with a gold-edge either, that could set him free. What if we melted it down?”

I heard the snorts of suppressed laughter from the High Council, but Kedar and Lavan kept their composure.

Kedar gestured to me with two fingers. “Are you done speaking?”

“Umm… yes… for now.”

“Melting it down does not seem any safer than breaking it,” said the bearded elf with a shake of his head. “You told us you know the stories of the Ancients. Is that true?”

“It is.”

“Then, surely you’ve heard that Zahac often appears wreathed in flames, and that no mortal weapon can harm him?” A smirk tried to take the corner of Kedar’s lip, but he kept it subdued. My cheeks burned red-hot. “So, if we’re at all worried that he is in this egg, surely even the heat of the furnace will not save us from him. If this is the real egg of Zahac, then... I dare say there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Defeated, I slunk away, hanging my head. “Right… Do what you will.”

Kedar nodded. “I believe our dialogue is complete.”

Lavan turned to his peers again. “Are there any other suggestions from a member of this council?” When all were silent in response, Lavan said, “Very well. We shall display this copper egg in the museum wing of the Great Library. The delvers shall be compensated for their work, and we request that they refrain from--” he turned his eyes accusingly at me, “--spreading wild rumors about what the egg may or may not containnnnn.” The final ‘n’ came through gritted teeth. The first sign he’d given me that he was in any way displeased.

“You can count on us, masters,” said Elora